by Judith Gould
"The shots?" she asked.
He nodded. "I was taking a lot of pain medication." He paused a moment, his eyes cast down, choosing his words carefully. "I think ... I know . . . that I was overdoing it. I was lonely and depressed. And I felt like some kind of freak. The painkillers took me away from it all." He looked back at her. "Then you came along." He took her hands in his. "You changed everything, Val," he said. "You made me want to live again. To feel life again. Even if some of it is unpleasant and painful."
With his words, Valerie's heart surged with love and, she had to admit, a measure of pride. To think that she could have that sort of effect on a man was empowering.
"I was at a turning point in my life," she said, "or low point, I guess. I knew that I wasn't in love with Teddy, but in all honesty, Wyn, I was actually tempted to go through with the marriage anyway. It seemed easier than arguing, and I didn't want to be alone forever. I don't think anybody does. Then, guess what?"
"What?" he asked.
"You came along from out of the blue," she replied, looking at him and smiling. "The last thing I ever imagined."
"The old white knight or Prince Charming, huh?" he said.
"Well . . . ," she said, "more like Frankenstein."
He grabbed her and held her as she laughed. "You mean, mean woman." He kissed her passionately, almost roughly, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Within moments, they were breathlessly kissing, stroking, massaging, delving, probing, and exploring.
They finally parted, and it was Wyn who spoke first.
"I-I don't know . . . how you—how you feel.. . about waiting," he stuttered, looking into her eyes, "but it's making me crazy already. I want to make love to you, Val."
"I may be a free woman," she said laughingly, still breathless, "but-but. . . you're still a married man, Mr. Conrad."
"You won't hold that against me, will you, Doc?" he asked.
"I might," she said. "I think I really should know what's going on in that quarter."
"You're right," he said. "It's only fair. After all, you've told me all about your ex." He paused. "Arielle and I are getting a divorce, you know, but we haven't arrived at a final settlement yet."
Valerie nodded. "And?" she said, coaxing him.
"And I'm playing hardball because I'm really pissed off with her," he admitted.
"I see," she said. "I would've suspected as much from you."
"You already know me pretty well,"
"I think so," she said. "You're a wronged man, and mean as a snake."
He nodded. "You bet. I could get it over with quickly," he said. "All it would take is one little phone call to the lawyer, but I've been torturing her. Deliberately."
"Of course, just what I would've guessed. But!"
"But what?"
"Does it make any sense to go on torturing Mrs. Conrad if you want there to be a new Mrs. Conrad?"
"Are you proposing to me, Doc?" he asked, smiling.
"Darn right, I am," she said. "So you've got to unload some of your riches on the first Mrs. Conrad and tell her good-bye. Besides," she went on, "I think it'll improve your disposition considerably when she's out of your hair—and I'll have you all to myself."
"You think so?"
"I do," she replied.
"Well, Doc," he said, "I think you've got a point, but are you sure you want me to make an honest woman out of you?"
"I don't think either one of us wants to live life any other way. Honest living is the only way to go."
He sat grinning at her like a boy. "I'm going to call the lawyer tomorrow," he said, "and tell him to get it over with ASAP. Give the woman what she's asking for and get rid of her once and for all."
She stared at him through slitted eyes. "Honest injun?"
"Scout's honor," he said, holding a hand up.
"Cut your finger and sign it in blood?" she asked.
"For you, Doc, I would," he replied. "But somehow I don't think you're so mean you'll make me lose blood over this." He fell on her body again, tickling her until she shrieked, then he began kissing her until they were both moaning with passion.
The parking lot out behind the bar was dark, the only light coming from distant streetlamps. The roar of the dance music playing on the bar's powerful stereo system was reduced to a muffled bass beat out here, momentarily amplified when a parting customer flung open the door and came out the back way.
Inside the car, the three people sat deeply engrossed in discussion, their conversation abruptly ceasing altogether when the occasional patron passed close by.
"You're crazy," the huge bulk in the front seat said in a quiet but intense voice. He stared straight ahead, as if he wasn't addressing the two people in the backseat, as if they didn't even exist. The light outside reflected off the smooth back of his shaved head.
"No, I'm not crazy," the female in the backseat said. "It's a cinch. When you shoot him up with the painkiller, you give him too much, then the poor guy falls down the stairs or something. It's simple."
"You mean I throw him down the steps," the giant said.
"Exactly," the woman replied. "Make sure his neck is broken or something. I'll give you fifty grand."
"Oh, Jesus," the man in the backseat said, almost under his breath. "I don't believe I'm hearing this."
The woman turned to him, her eyes glittering angrily. "You have a better idea?" she said. "Maybe you want to do it for fifty grand? Is that it? What if I give you a gun? I've got one at the house, you know. I brought it with me. Will you go in there and do it? Earn your keep?"
"Shit." The man sighed, turning away from her and staring out the window, his face almost pressed up against the glass. "You've had too much to drink. You don't mean what you're saying."
"Yes, I do," the woman said. "I mean every word. I'll pay fifty grand up front, then fifty when it's done. I'd do it myself except I'd be suspect number one, and I'd have hell even getting in there."
"I'd be number one," the bulk in the front seat said. "I'm there nearly twenty-four hours a day, and I'm in the will."
"That's crap," the woman said. "Make it look like an accident, like I said. Tell the cops how he shoots himself up sometimes. Wanders around the house at night. Just make sure he's dead, then go on out to your cottage and go to bed. Those stupid fools the Reinhardts wouldn't know any different. Besides, everybody knows you've been totally devoted to him for years."
"One major problem," the giant retorted.
"What?" the woman asked.
"Since he's been seeing that vet, he's quit shooting up, unless he's doing it himself."
"That doesn't matter," the woman said, "he's got needle marks on his ass, right?"
The bulk nodded.
"So who's to know he quit?" she asked.
"You make it sound so easy," the man in the backseat said.
"It is," she said. "So why don't you give it a try if he won't? He could get you inside and back out again without any problem." She looked toward the front. "Right?"
The bulk nodded again. "I could do it."
"No way," the man in the backseat said. "No fucking way. I'm not going to have anything to do with this."
"Not even for me?" the woman asked, thrusting a clenched fist against her breast.
"No," the man said.
"And a hundred grand all your own?" she said tauntingly.
The man shook his black curls. "No," he said. "Don't ask me again. That's final. No!"
She looked toward the front again. "You've got to do it then," she said to the hulking presence at the steering wheel. "You've got to!"
The bulk sighed, then said, "I'll have to think about it. Think about how to do it. Maybe."
Tiffani frowned. "Why were you so late anyway, Teddy?"
"I just had a bunch of business stuff to do," he replied. He put the silver straw up his nose, then bent over the line of cocaine she'd cut for him, and took a snort up one nostril, then repeated the process with the other. He sniffed several times, making certa
in he'd gotten it all up into his nose, then looked at her and smiled. "Forgive me?"
"I forgive you," she said. "How can I be mad at a man with such good nose candy?" She giggled. She felt great. They'd already snorted several lines, made love, and had a long talk about something Teddy wanted her to help him with. Imagine, she thought. Me, poor little Tiffani being able to help the rich Mr. de Mornay. Only she wasn't so sure she wanted to get involved with this little project. I've got to make sure there's plenty in this for me, she decided.
"What're you thinking about?" Teddy asked her, putting a finger under her chin and turning her face to him. "You look like you're in another world, Tiff."
"Oh, I don't know, Teddy," she replied, shaking her long, copious curls. "I just. . . well, I mean, your idea sounds too dangerous to me. I don't even know my way around Stonelair except in the stable complex. It's, like, I drive there, park, go inside to the stable office and work, and that's it. Besides, that creep Santo's always there, and you never know when old man Reinhardt's going to come wandering in."
Teddy took a sip of the wine he'd brought over to Tiffani's, then set the glass down. "The stable complex would be enough for right now," he said, looking at Tiffani.
She stared back at him. "The stable?" she said quizzically. "But why the stable?"
He had to tell Tiffani that he was planning a surprise for Wyn Conrad and Valerie, but he didn't want her to know exactly what he had in mind. He'd have to keep her in the dark to some extent, or he'd never get her cooperation. Tiffani may have the hots for him, he realized, but he had the feeling that she'd only stick her neck out so far.
"Because," he finally said, "what I want to do can be done in the stables when nobody else is around." He slid a hand across her naked breasts, then ran his fingers up and down her torso gently, finally maneuvering it down between her thighs, where it rested on her warm mound.
He could feel the new line of coke kicking in, and he felt powerful, indestructible. "You don't have to worry about a thing, Tiff," he said. "It's a piece of cake. And I'll take good care of you for helping out."
"Hmmmm," Tiffani moaned. "You feel so good."
"You'll help me, won't you, Tiff?" he asked, leaning over and licking at a nipple with his tongue. "Please, Tiff."
"Ahhhhh, Teddy," she moaned.
His fingers began to work between her ample thighs, delving into her wetness, while his tongue flicked out at her nipples between words. "Please, Tiff," he said. "For me."
"But-but I don't know what you want me to do, Teddy," she said in a gasp. Her body began to quiver with delight, and she didn't want him to stop. Ever.
"It's no big deal," he said, momentarily taking his mouth off a nipple. "Nobody'll get hurt."
"You-you sure?"
"I'm sure," he said, removing his hand and sitting up.
"Oh, no, Teddy," she immediately complained. "That felt so good."
He got on his knees between her legs and spread them wide apart with his hands. "It's going to feel even better, Tiff," he said. "I want you to feel better than you ever have." His head plunged between her thighs, and his tongue replaced his fingers there.
Tiffany began to roll her head from side to side, moaning loudly, her legs alternately stiffening and spasming, her hands pushing down on the back of his head. "Ohhhh, Teddddy," she cried. "You-you're going to make me—"
His tongue plunged into her relentlessly. Then he suddenly withdrew and sat up again.
"Nooooo, Teddy," Tiffani groaned. "That was so—"
Paying no attention to her complaints, Teddy grabbed her knees with his hands, spread them wide and, without any further preamble, he plunged into her hard, up to the hilt of his fully engorged manhood.
Tiffani gasped and nearly levitated off the bed before she began to spasm again and again, her cries of pleasure and flowing juices driving him ever harder and faster, until he was bucking like a cowboy, and with a roar like a bull and a final plunge he exploded inside of her, his entire body jerking wildly.
He collapsed atop her, and the two of them lay spent, exhausted for the moment. It was a long time before Teddy rolled off her, pulling her with him so that he stayed inside her. He stroked her damp hair and looked into her eyes. "You'll do it," he whispered. "Won't you, Tiff? For me? Please?"
She nodded slowly. "If you promise me nobody'll get hurt," she said.
"You bet," Teddy said, grinning. Nobody will get hurt, you stupid bitch, he thought, but that doesn't mean nothing will. "Nobody'll get hurt, I promise."
She smiled. "And you promise we'll keep doing this, Teddy."
"Believe me, baby, I want to do this as much as you do," he said. At least until something better comes along, he thought. She was already getting tiresome, he'd decided. It was time to move on soon, explore new territory.
He took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, his tongue plunging between her lips, his cock stirring to life again inside of her. Tiffani responded immediately, grinding herself against him and moaning with pleasure.
Teddy's going to be mine, she thought. All mine, and nobody else's. I just know it. I'm going to be the rich Mrs. Teddy de Mornay.
It was late at night, but the shadowy figure didn't want to get too close to the house because the dogs might get alarmed. It wasn't necessary anyway. Not with such great binoculars. The lovey-dovey couple was sprawled out on a big Chesterfield couch in the library with the lights on. It was as if nothing or nobody in the world could harm them.
Ha!
While they made love to one another in that magnificent room, they were in a world of their own, protected from prying eyes.
Or so they thought.
They'd undressed one another, taking their precious time, seeming to savor every single minute of it. Tenderly caressing each other, running hands all over each other, nibbling, licking, and kissing.
How sweet and gentle they were.
Then, rutting like animals, devouring one another like starved, lovesick dogs. Moaning and groaning in ecstasy, no doubt, while they pawed and clawed at each other in a frenzy of carnal delight. Then resting, breathless, but unable to keep their hands off of each other after their great mutual and explosive climax. In sync, those two. Whispering sweet nothings to each other for sure, yapping about how great it was, and oh, yeah, professing their undying love.
We'll see about that.
Then going at it again. Like a horse at stud and a mare that had never had it before. Disgusting, really.
They're nothing but animals. Dirty, filthy animals.
A shudder went through the watching figure. And me? I've got nothing. Never had anything or anybody. Not like them. But I'm going to have to fix that one way or the other. I'll have to fix them.
Chapter Twenty-five
Colette awoke to sunlight streaming through her bedroom windows. It's late, she thought idly, sitting up in bed and rubbing her eyes. She looked over at the clock on the draped table at her bedside. My goodness, ten o'clock. Puff Puppy stirred at her feet, and she leaned down to pet him.
"Good morning, Puff Puppy," she said. "Your mummy overslept, and you didn't wake me, you naughty boy."
She slid her legs over the side of the bed and into damask-patterned silk slippers, then stood up, shrugged into a silk robe, and went into her bathroom. She quickly performed her morning ritual, gave her hair a few strokes with a brush, and dismissed her appearance in the mirror with one lifted eyebrow. "Later, alligator," she said to her reflection. "Yes, I'll fix you up later."
She snapped off the light and made her way to the kitchen, Puff Puppy following slowly along behind her. She opened the kitchen door, padded out onto the screened-in porch, and opened the screen door for Puff Puppy. "There, darling," she cooed. "Do your business for Mummy. I'll have your breakfast waiting when you get back."
She watched as Puff Puppy went out into the garden, sniffing here and there, and headed for one of his favorite spots. It was a patch of ferns that hid him entirely from sight, giving him
a sense of privacy, she supposed. He's awfully sluggish this morning, she thought. I wonder if something's wrong with him. He doesn't seem himself. I'll have to watch him, she decided, and if he continues behaving this way, I'll have to make an appointment with Val.
Forgetting her promise to herself not to let Puff Puppy out of her sight, she returned to the kitchen and filled his water bowl with fresh water, then filled his food bowl with a mixture of dry food and leftover bits of chicken she'd deboned for him. That done, she ground coffee beans and filled the coffeemaker with water and aromatic coffee.
She heard Puff Puppy at the screen door and padded back out onto the porch and let him in. "Were you successful, darling?" she asked the quiet and still sluggish dog.
Puff Puppy made a beeline for his bed in the kitchen. He slumped down and immediately closed his eyes.
"Oh, dear me," Colette said worriedly. "If you're not yourself by noontime, I'm calling Val."
She poured herself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee, then mixed in a tiny spoonful of sugar substitute and a generous portion of nonfat milk.
Coffee cup in hand, she walked over to Hayden's big
wire cage, which was entirely covered with a heavy blue cotton cloth that blocked out all light. That way the nocturnal creature wasn't bothered by the kitchen's bright daylight. She lifted the cloth and peeked in. "Hayden, darling," she cooed. "Did you have fun last night? Spinning away on your little wheel?"
She didn't see Hayden or any movement indicating that he was there. He was hidden by toys perhaps, or burrowed deeply under his blanket. African pygmy hedgehogs couldn't stand cold, and Hayden always slept on a heating pad burrowed under a little blanket. Colette straightened up and worriedly removed the cloth from over his cage entirely, putting it down on a chair.
"Hayden?" she called again. "Are you there, darling boy?" There was still no movement, so she opened the cage's door and carefully grasped his blanket, looking under it. Nothing. She took the blanket out and moved her fingers gingerly about the cage, searching in vain for the missing creature.